Luke dives onto Jared, his fist plowing through my captor’s face.
Jared rolls over. He’s out.
“Bella!” Luke scoops me in his arms. I hear more giggling. I think it’s me. The sound—so far away.
His hands are all over me. So not appropriate, young man.
He lifts them to his face. Blood. Ick, whose blood?
“Luke . . .” The pretty lights are fading. It’s getting dark. “No party tonight.”
He pushes the hair from my face. “You saved my life. I came here to rescue you, and you saved my life. We got onto Jared’s MySpace page from Zach’s computer. Jared filmed every initiation. It was all there. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time.”
I reach out a hand and pass my fingers over his lips. “You know, you’re really not so bad. Hey . . . wanna make out?”
Luke’s mouth smiles. His eyes don’t. He holds me closer.
Tighter. “Maybe later.”
A siren. Why do I hear sirens? Maybe there’s a parade. I do so love a good parade.
“Hang on, Bella. Please. Stay with me.”
“Luke.” Can’t get my voice above a whisper. “The story—I want back on the story.”
“Bella Kirkwood . . . I think you just became the story.”
The blackness pools all around me. Snuffs out the twinkling lights.
It pulls me down.
And I let it take me away.
chapter forty
The casket is covered in a spray of wildflowers.
The soloist sings “I’ll Fly Away.” No instruments, just a voice.
There is sadness. Yet also a reluctant peace.
Sun filters through the trees, the light coming through the branches like a band of halos.
Death would have its day.
So life can begin again.
“Hand me a tissue,” Budge says, his tie a stiff knot at his throat. “I have something in my eye.”
With my good arm, I reach into my purse and pull out a Kleenex. He takes it and gifts me with a rare, small smile.
“Friends and family”—the pastor takes his place in front under the canopy—“we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of a son, a friend, and a football hero. Zachary Epps was this—and so much more.”
My left shoulder throbs where Jared Campbell’s gun left a bullet. It was just a week ago, but when I close my eyes, I still see it there, fresh and new in my mind. Though parts of it are foggy, like the ambulance ride. Getting my stomach pumped. The surgery to extract the bullet. But I remember the fear. And the chaos.
The preacher finishes and asks if anyone would like to say a few words.
Some of his teammates stand to their feet. Noticeably absent are Dante, Reggie Lee, that Adam guy, and, of course, my favorite kidnapper, Jared, who’s looking at the world through some metal bars right now.
Next to speak is Kelsey. She still looks no wider than a pencil, but her voice is mighty and carries to the few hundred gathered.
She speaks of love and loss and all that Zach was to her.
“Anyone else?” The preacher scans the crowd as Kelsey sits down. “Let us pray, then.”
“I’d like to speak.” Beside me Budge stands. I hear him swallow, and I say a quick prayer for him.
“Last year I lost my best friend. He loved his girlfriend, and he loved his family. And he loved that car.” The crowd laughs, sharing a memory. “It could have been any of us. He made a mistake and got caught up. But the real Zach Epps would’ve wanted us to forgive.
And live. Because if Zach knew how to do anything, it was live life to the fullest. And to be who we are—not who others want us to be.”
Budge blinks at moisture in his eyes. “I’ll always carry that part of my friend with me. Always.”
I can’t help but smile as a small group from the Truman band breaks into “Free Bird.” Only in Truman. But it fits.
I merge into the line and shake hands with Zach’s family. When I get to Kelsey, she pulls me into a hug. “Thank you,” she says.
“Thank you.” Tears flow unchecked, and she waves a hand in front of her face, unable to speak.
I hug her again. I don’t need her words. Just the hope that she’s going to rejoin the living. And I think she will.
Exiting the canopy, I spot Lindy with some friends, and I walk to them.
“How’s the shoulder?” Lindy asks.
It hurts like someone’s holding a blowtorch to it. “Not bad.”
“Are you taking your pain pills?”
“Nah, something about forcibly puking them up last week makes me not want to down any more.” Just the thought makes me want to barf. “I see you’re wearing one of the dresses we bought in New York.”
Lindy twists a piece of her flatironed hair. “As soon as I get home, it’s Nikes and sweats.”
“So how’s Matt doing?”
“He’s grounded for life for one thing.”
“Still not ready to declare your undying love and adoration?”
She smiles, her lips a nice shade of Chanel pink. “He needs a good friend. And that’s what I’ll be.” She winks. “For now.”
“Bella Kirkwood?”
I turn around at the tap on my shoulder.
“I’m Pam Penturf. Carson’s mom.” She wrings a tissue in her hands. “I just wanted to thank you for what you did—exposing the truth about the football players.” Her voice breaks, and I awkwardly pat her arm. “I couldn’t believe my son would kill himself. It’s haunted me, you know. I’ve carried that burden around, thinking what could I have done? How could I not have seen it?” She daubs at her eyes. “I feel like he can rest in peace now—like we all can. Anyway, I just wanted to express my gratitude.” I’m wrapped in another hug. “You have no idea what you’ve done for me.” She holds the tissue to her face and hurries away.
I spot Luke standing with another group. His eyes catch mine.
He nods toward Mrs. Penturf and smiles.
I ride home with Budge. Even he didn’t think driving a hearse to a funeral would be appropriate, so I have the pleasure of seeing him behind the wheel of my cute little Bug.
“Hey, where are you going?” Budge turns into a subdivision instead of heading toward our old dirt road.
“Gotta make a quick detour.” He stops the car at a two-story house. “Won’t take long.” And he bails out of the Bug.
I lightly rub my shoulder, lean my seat back, and close my eyes.
Minutes pass.
I jolt awake when my door flings open. Budge stands there. A cat in his arms.
My cat.
“Moxie!” I grab her and hold her close.
“Yeah, she’s decided to come live with you again. I . . . um, seem to have been healed of my allergies.”
I run my fingers through the cat’s silky fur, a suspicious eye on my stepbrother. “Sounds miraculous.”
He cracks a smile. “Amen, sister.”
chapter forty-one
It’s hard to digest a hot dog when you’re looking at thirty- and forty-year-old men in spandex. Seriously.
“There’s Dad!” Robbie claps his hands then whistles through his teeth at a volume that could shatter eardrums.
“Are you ready for a smackdown? Are you ready for a fight?” The crowd goes wild at the announcer’s dramatic spiel. “Tonight in the Tulsa Athletic Arena, we present our regional champion— Captain Iron Jack!”
Our family stands and yells. I lift up a sign with one arm.
“Hold on to your popcorn as he takes on the force from Biloxi— Mississippi Mud!” A man in a hideous poop brown Onesie circles Jake on the stage.
“Did I miss anything?” Luke Sullivan fills the empty seat beside me, and I have to look twice.
“What are you doing here?”
My mom reaches over me, waves at her new hero, then returns to yelling for Captain Iron Jack.
“Your mother invited me. Wants me to do another feature in our paper.”
“Fabul
ous,” I droll. Images of him crashing through the cabin door and yelling my name flutter through my mind. A faint memory of him holding my hand in the ambulance. Waking up in the hospital and seeing his worried face.
“You know”—he leans in closer—“we haven’t really had a chance to talk since everything happened.”
Mmm, he smells good tonight. Or maybe I’m high on wrestler sweat fumes. Yes, that’s definitely it.
“I just wanted to thank you for, um, you know, saving my life.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “It was the drugs. Had I been thinking clearly . . .”
He opens his ever-present messenger bag and pulls out a paper.
“I just submitted this to a national contest—sponsored by Princeton University.”
I look at the words. My article on the football scandal. “Are you serious?”
Luke nods his dark head. “It was a great piece, Bella. And when I read it, I learned something about you.”
This ought to be good. I cross my arms and wait for the zippy insult. “And that is?”
“You . . . are a writer.”
“I’m a—” I blink hard as the words circulate in my brain. Below us Jake twirls Mississippi Mud over his head.
“Writer.” Luke’s eyes shine brilliant blue in the dimmed lights.
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I honestly didn’t know you had it in you.”
That makes two of us.
“This was your moment, Bella. You went through the fire and came out on the other side. I’m proud to have you on my newspaper staff.”
His hand touches mine as I hand the paper back. “Do you say that to all the girls who save your life?”
Luke’s laugh is rich and sends happy chill bumps along my skin. “Just you, Kirkwood. Only you.”
“And thanks for rescuing me from Jared.” My face flushes with heat. “It’s not every day a guy breaks down a door for me.”
My editor in chief winks. “Don’t get used to it.”
We watch the rest of the match, cheering and booing at all the right moments.
And life is all about right moments, isn’t it?
Okay, so Truman isn’t Manhattan. And I’ll never get used to stepping around cow pies in the yard. Or being ten minutes late to school because the neighbor had to take his tractor for a ride.
And back in August I had no idea why God would punish me with this place, with this life. But like Luke said, I guess it was my moment. I was meant to be here all along. And who knows where this path will lead? Maybe by this time next month I’ll have forgotten all about Macy’s and Times Square and love nothing more than a trip to Target and peaceful walks through our pasture with Betsy the licking cow.
Yeah.
That is so not happening.
acknowledgments
Every book is a group effort. I couldn’t do it without the help of so many in my life. I would like to thank:
My heavenly Father. I stay tired. I stay stressed. I stay hunched over a keyboard. But I also remain amazed and humbled and awed.
Thank You for giving me the opportunity to share the coolness of Christ.
My family for putting up with my end-of-deadline moodiness and outrageous demands for food delivery and for reminding me to brush my hair and shower during the final weeks.
My friends for listening to me gripe about my family harassing me about showering and brushing my teeth.
My students who consistently come up to me and say, “Please put me in your book.” It’s so sweet. My next series will focus on a girl named KelseyRaynaKarlyKensleeJohnJamieCourtneyAllieSydney SueJayson. Should be a big hit.
All those who follow my blog at jennybjones.com. I appreciate you stopping by to read all about my snow addiction, my cat woes, my inability to turn away from fajitas, and other fascinating items from my thrilling life.
My lifelong hero, Carol Burnett. Though you will never read this, you are funny personified and made a huge impact on my life. Though I will always think the role of Annie should’ve gone to a young unknown named Jennifer Jones, I will forever hold you in the highest regard.
Everyone at Thomas Nelson for giving me a chance—a big chance. I’m so proud to be part of the team.
reading group guide
1. How does pride get in the way of Bella’s picture of the “ideal” life? What are the events that humble her? Can you think of a time in your life when you learned a lesson through a humbling event?
2. Bella finds out she has a God-given talent for writing. What are your talents? How could you use your gifts for God? How could Bella? Just for fun, imagine if you could have any talent in the world, what would it be?
3. What would your advice be to Bella so she doesn’t date a “Hunter” again?
4. Bella has a hard adjustment to make when she leaves her life in Manhattan for Truman, Oklahoma. What are some things she could have prayed for in order to prepare for that difficult change?
5. Bella does not come from a perfect family. Do you relate to that at all? What are some ways God sometimes challenges us with family issues?
6. Materialism is an idea that pops up a lot in this novel. Even if you’re not rich as a rock star, this can be a trap. In what ways was Bella materialistic? Now look at your own life. Do you have this in common with Bella?
7. Unlike Bella, Hunter is not a Christian. What are the dangers of dating a nonbeliever in your life? How did this not work out for Bella?
8. Bella often rebels against her mother’s instruction. Why? Can you relate to this at all? (And who doesn’t!)
9. Bella meets her friend Lindy by helping her out. Is it hard for you to meet new friends?
10. Bella found she had drifted away from the Lord. How do you think this happened? What are the reasons we sometimes get inconsistent with our time with God?
11. What kind of a role does our attitude play in being open to new opportunities?
12. One theme for the book is “things are not always what they seem.” Can you describe the numerous ways this is evident in the book? What’s the danger of taking things at face value?
13. A great verse to go along with Bella’s life would be Jeremiah 29:11 which says:
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
How is this verse relevant to the book, as well as your own life?
i’m so sure
This book is dedicated to my super handsome nephew, Hardy. You are the sweetest, smartest, niftiest boy in the world. And I cannot believe your dad, who used to “accidentally” punch me in the nose and make me his wrestling guinea pig, could have a son as perfect as you. I love you!
chapter one
That dirty rotten cheater.
I lower my binoculars and swap them for a camera. A moment like this needs some megapixel proof. The lens zooms closer and closer on my target. I shove my way farther into the bushes of the Truman City Park and aim toward the old tennis court, where the loser twines himself around a girl who is definitely not his girlfriend. Leaning over and balancing on one leg, I angle my body and get the perfect shot. One more close-up to seal the deal.
“Hello, Bella Kirkwood.”
With a squeal and a jerk, I topple over and crash into the shrubs.
Spitting dried leaves, I glare at the boy standing over me. “Hey, Chief.”
As the sun shines behind him, the editor of the Truman High Tribune smiles, and for a moment I forget that I’m sprawled in a small tree with limbs poking me in very uncomfortable places.
Luke Sullivan is delish. Except for his attitude. And his arrogance. And his broodiness. And his genius IQ that makes me feel like I have all the intellect of a gerbil.
“What are you doing?” With his hand on mine, he pulls me upright and I’m catapulted straight into his chest.
“Working.” I take a step back. “Mindy Munson hired me to find out if her boyfriend was cheating.” I jerk my head toward the coupl
e making up their own game on the court. “I’d say we have a definite love violation here.”
“So you’re taking pictures of a guy without his permission. Don’t you think that’s a little creepy? A little unethical?”
I consider the idea. “Not so much.”
“This has got to stop. Ever since we busted the football team, people think you’re Nancy Drew.”
It’s true. When you get kidnapped by the leader of a deadly football gang, and said leader tries to permanently erase you from the planet, people think you’re the stuff. And when you walk away from the attempted murder with your head still intact, folks start to think you’re some sort of sleuthy hero.
Oh, the many perks of almost dying. I’ve spent the last two months tracking down stolen iPods, cheating boyfriends, a drill team stalker, and one lost bullfrog by the name of Mr. Toady Pants.
Not only does it keep me busy, it keeps me in shoes. Hey, the Prada fairy doesn’t visit me like she used to. I do what I must.
“Did you finish the article I assigned?” Now Luke’s all business.
“I’m working here. According to my watch the school day has been over for an hour, and believe it or not, I do have a life outside of the paper. What are you doing here anyway? If you’re so hard up for female company that you have to follow me around, maybe you should give Mindy Munson a call.” I throw a look at her loser boyfriend. “My keen reporter’s instinct says she’ll be on the market by tonight.”
A corner of his mouth twitches; then he tilts his head and pierces me with those ocean blue eyes. “Who says I’m on the market?”
I blink. “Um . . . because I’ve never seen you with a girl. I realize I’m new to detective work and all, but unless your lady is invisible, she—”
“She’s at Harvard.” He picks a leaf from my jacket. “Freshman.
And no, we don’t see much of each other, but she should be in for Christmas.”
Why do I suddenly feel like a deflated balloon? “You never mentioned her.”
He grins, revealing perfectly straight teeth. “You never asked.”
A Charmed Life Page 27